Sam replied in a ghastly voice, sounding as if he had been crying. "We need your help. Bobby said that you could, uh, cure monsters?"
It was as if he was hesitant to voice his real problems, which meant that whomever Irwin needed to cure was important to him. Maybe even the most important person in Sam's life.
'Shit. Did Dean get infected or something?' Irwin's mind was rattled by the call, but he pushed through and said, "There may be something I can do. Why don't you start with the most important facts? What kind of monster? Who is infected? Did they feed on humans yet? And how long had they been infected?"
The series of questions calmed a lot of Sam's nervousness, perhaps it was the almost clinical queries that made him realize that he was dealing with someone experienced with his problem.
Sam calmed himself and began answering, "Her name is Madison and she got bitten by… by a werewolf about a month ago. I-I don't know how much she's fed, but… there was this ex-boyfriend, uh, Kurt, that she killed."
"Shit. Did you kill her sire yet?" Irwin cursed, knowing the answer already.
"Ah, no. Dad had this thing in his diary that said killing the Sire will slowly kill his spawns." Sam said, which filled Irwin with relief.
"Makes sense." He remarked aloud before clearing his throat. "Yes, there should be a cure, but you need to keep both of them alive. Understand?"
There was a moment of anguished relief that bore out of the phone before Sam said, "Yes, thank you. Thank you. We're in San Francisco right now. I don't know–Are you still in San Diego?"
"No. I'll come to you. Text me the address." Irwin said to which Sam, thanked him once more. "Don't thank me yet, Sam. I don't know if it'll work on her. Worst-case scenario: We mercy kill her. Do you understand?"
"I-I-I do." Sam said with a breathy tone before he ended the call.
Irwin turned back towards the bar and saw Ellen looking at him with an eye full of expectation. "Well, what'd Sam need?" She asked, clearly eavesdropping.
"A girl named Madison got bitten by a werewolf, and I think Sam fell in love with her." His words brought differing emotions to everyone around the bar. "I need to help them cure her, so I'll be taking my leave."
"Sam's in trouble?"
"Cure her?"
"He fell in love? That takes me back–"
"Who's Sam?"
Irwin calmed all of them down, eyeing Ash, who was preoccupied with his computer and didn't care about what he had said.
"I'm going to San Francisco and meet up with the Winchesters. I don't have the exact details yet," which was a complete lie as Irwin already knew of Madison's demise at the hands of Dean Winchester–a mercy kill to prevent more deaths. "But I can cure her with an experimental liquid."
"How experimental?" Jo teased.
Irwin huffed at Jo before grabbing his suit jacket, "Let's go, Scott. Garth, you wanna come?"
"I'm good–"
"I assume this werewolf cure isn't just a hoax and you can actually do it?" Irwin nodded at Ellen's words. "Then I wanna see it. I'll come with you""
"What? No, mom. You can't just leave. I can't tend to the bar alone." Jo complained.
"These two can help you." Ellen pointed to both Scott and Garth. The two immediately rejected the offer with pleas and grimaced looks towards Irwin.
"Sorry, boys. Looks like you're bartending."
●●Ellen Harvelle●●●
It took a lot of convincing, but her daughter was eventually worn down and had allowed her to come to San Francisco alone. And while she was glad that her daughter still depends on her, there was an inkling on the back of her throat that told Jo was only complaining because she won't be part of the adventure.
Just like father, Jo was adamant to begin her hunting career, even going so far as to sneak in on the Winchester's job in New York. Thankfully, that hunt had gone well enough, but she did give them a handful soon after.
It had strained their relationship for a few weeks–not one day had gone by without butting heads on something or other–but, strangely enough, Richard's men, Garth, had mediated their relationship somewhat. Sure, it took a lot of convincing from the scrawny little fella and a lot of shotgun shells, but Ellen had a feeling that the man wouldn't stop until she talked to her daughter.
Sure enough, Jo and her reconciled somewhat, and Garth decided to stay within the area and hang around the bar.
'He's a menace, to be sure. But damn if he did give good dental hygiene,' Ellen thought inwardly as her tongue flitted across her teeth and noticed how cleaned it had been.
She had religiously brushed her teeth, yes, but there was something special about the care Garth had instilled in the last couple of weeks.
"I think we're landing." Richard called out as he woke up off his stupor.
The scratchy voice of the pilot rang across the cabin as sounds of clicking and lights went off in succession.
They had immediately taken a midnight hour and a half flight from Central Nebraska to San Francisco, bowing down to the might of air supremacy rather than taking a few hours to drive towards California.
Half of the passengers within the cabin were tired by the end of the flight, merely dragging down their luggages towards the terminal and trudging through security just to get their luggages from baggage claim. All through it all, however, Richard could be seen talking to himself or writing down something on his smartphone.
Ellen had seen one of those before. Hell, Ash had one and was evangelizing the amazing features it had, but what would she ever do with a phone that does all the other phones she had?
"So, that werewolf cure?" She asked, cracking her sore neck as they headed towards the exit. "How does it work? Is it like a spell?"
"So you know I'm a witch?" Richard asked coyly.
If Ellen didn't know that he was only doing this because he needed her connection and approval, then she would have thought that Richard was flirting with her. Still, it was nice that she still had it.
"I asked around after you came into the bar the first time. I was surprised to see that you're broadcasting it, though? A lot of hunters don't ask questions first when it comes to witches." She warned.
"Trust me, I know." Richard grinned.
Unlike the blizzard-ridden weather of Nebraska, California had a knack for being in the right temperature at the right time. Sure, there were enough droughts and floods here to make Sodom and Gamorra jealous, but the fact was that compared to Nebraska…
"This looks like Paradise in Hell." She snickered.
"Well, you're a tourist. Live here long enough and you'll want to go back." He chuckled, hiding something beneath that slew of information.
Their ride came to sight the moment they left the building. A familiar black Impala stood on the side of a road with three parking tickets stuck to its window. Its owner, Dean Winchester, grumbled underneath his breath as he pried the paper out of his windshield.
"You're an idiot, you know that?" Ellen mocked, startling the man before smiling at the familiarity.
"Hey! Long time, Ellen." Dean reached down and embraced her, chuckling all the while.
As they parted, she couldn't help but notice the mark on Dean's cheeks–a small bruise on the side.
"You got into a fight?" She pointed her lips at his cheeks.
Before Dean could answer, Bobby barked a laugh as he came into view. "Dumbass got into a fight with his brother. How you doing, kid?"
"Very good since we last met, sir." Richard was all giddy yet still polite as he shook Bobby's hands, very much unlike what she had seen him do before. "How's the patient?"
"Bad, even more so last night. Full moon." Bobby groaned, taking off his hat, and wiped away the sweat on his forehead. "What made it worse was this idjit threatening to kill Madison."
"Mercy-kill her, Bobby. Clearly, we're hinging on the idea that he can cure a-a damn monster." Dean glared briefly at Richard. "If dad couldn't find one, then who the hell is he to do so?"
"You still aren't through with your daddy issues? I guess you wouldn't be you if you didn't." Richard was surprisingly calm when talking to Dean, as if he had already known that he was going to be a hardass over this.
"Shut up, Dean. You too, Richard." Bobby growled before nodding at Ellen. "Nice of you to come along. What's this about?"
Ellen smirked as she shrugged her shoulders. "He said he had a werewolf cure, so I wanted to see. Besides, the boy wanted me to take part in his group."
"Yeah. Garth's been blabbering about some Nazi organization the kid's been building."
"Again. Not a Nazi. I'm not even white." Richard groaned. "Let's just get in the car."
All four entered the vehicle with Dean crumpling the parking tickets and driving away, narrowly missing the towing truck called in for his car.
"Can we see it, then?" Ellen asked, having been rejected on the way over here.
Richard chortled as all three looked over the back seat, waiting for him to unravel the cure. He did so unceremoniously, appearing in his hand was a strange gold-like liquid inside of a medicine vial. Bits of unknown flesh and globules of crimson light floated aimlessly inside of the swirling liquid.
"If I had to put a number on this fifty milliliter liquid cure? I'd put it at about ten million dollars." He said, tossing the vial to Bobby, who caught it worriedly. "That thing can cure Madison, even if she's fed a hundred hearts."